


only fools rush in

by CinderScoria



Series: Endgame [3]
Category: Escape the Night (Web Series)
Genre: F/M, anyway this is just a deeper (?) look at how these dumb kids fell for each other, foreshadowing in the form of symbolism? in MY fics?? it's more likely than you think, in Endgame context I mean, surprise! bet you thought you'd seen the last of me!, this comes with the disclaimer that I still don't understand romance lmaooo, this is a side story, this is part of a series but I suppose could be read as a standalone, wild, wow I really wrote an Eli twoshot huh, ya might be a tiny bit confused tho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-16
Updated: 2019-06-22
Packaged: 2020-05-13 03:29:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19242895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CinderScoria/pseuds/CinderScoria
Summary: in which falling in love is like jumping off the deep end (but drowning is a surprisingly slow process)a sidestory





	1. take my whole life, too

**Author's Note:**

> It takes him two months to understand that he’s painting the ocean because he misses Eva.

Oli doesn’t often think of Eva Gutowski—MyLifeAsEva, as she’s known on the internet—so he can’t exactly claim disappointment in her upon seeing she’s gone off with Shane Dawson of all people.

It just feels a little disrespectful, to disappear for a makeout session in the middle of Joey’s housewarming party. But maybe that’s an American thing. Either way, it's none of his business, and he doesn't give it much more thought than he's entitled to.

He does notice that she smells nice, when she finally arrives to sit next to him at the dinner table. Kinda like lilacs.

-

He changes his mind halfway through the night, knowing damn well they wouldn’t have gotten this far without her. “Quickly, quickly, Eva, you’re good at this!” he shouts, voice muffled by the clown mask he’d been given, and sure enough right away she begins to solve the puzzle he’d been stuck on for what feels like an eternity.

Oli doesn’t want anyone to die. He hates that so many of them are gone already. But he finds himself cheering as Eva and Joey climb the stone platform and raise what looks to be a tiny carousel above their heads, its tinny lullaby ringing across the yard. He keeps lapsing into a sense of security every time he looks at her—her eyes find his and he’s grinning like a fool, and her own answering smile is a bit breathless, and Oli thinks with utter certainty, _You’re going to make it._

-

He’s going to die, he knows it with every fiber of his being, but it’s okay because Eva’s staring at him with a look of focused intensity and she tells him, “—you’re going to survive,” and the wild thing is, even though he loses this challenge, he finds himself believing her.

-

And after that it’s like gravity, like she’s the first rain after a hot summer and he’s the desert, like he’s suddenly holding something he didn’t know he needed to find. He finds himself wary of Joey and Matt (though he can’t stay mad at Tim, if he’s being honest with himself). Colin grates on his last nerve and he hates that they’re listening to him. But is that jealousy or protectiveness?

It’s both, he realizes as Eva goes back with Tim. He wants to tear Joey to shreds. He wants to sock Colin in the jaw.

He wants this to stop.

-

He holds his breath until Eva comes back. But she’s different now, he can see it in her eyes, that this has shattered something in her and she might not be able to come back from it.

 _Take my hand_ _,_ he wants to tell her. _Lean on me. Let me carry you. It’ll be okay._

They’re empty promises, but he has faith. She’ll survive this. Maybe they both will.

-

There’s a haze of pain and noise and all Oli can really see through his blurry tears is Eva’s face, the same utter focus in her eyes when she’d told him in no uncertain terms that he was going to survive this.

Nothing else really registers, at least not until later. For now it’s her face, and that look, and every ring she manages to snag, and Oli thinks he’s never been so blessed to have fallen into her circle. He could kiss that girl. He doesn’t.

-

“Please don’t leave me,” he begs when the last key doesn’t work, and Eva grips his hand in hers and says, “We won’t.”

-

They make it halfway down the road before they’re all collapsing to their knees, darkness overcoming their vision, and Oli’s last thought is that maybe they did the ritual wrong after all, maybe they’ll never escape this place.

But at least they’re together.

-

Oli wakes alone in a hospital bed. His head is thick, his eyes are crusty, and he knows he's been asleep for a long time.

He doesn't see Eva or Joey. He doesn’t see his parents or his brother. He doesn’t see any doctors. He’s utterly alone. There’s an IV in his arm and he stares at the bag for a long time, watching whatever solution is slowly dripping into the liquid that feeds into his arm. He’s fine, really, save for the fact that all his friends are dead, and monsters and magic and time travel is real, and he doesn’t see his other friends—the ones who survived with him.

He turns his wrist over, real slow, curling his fingers inward and then stretching them out again. Well, this certainly feels real. He can even smell the awful sharpness of the hospital he’s in. The sun is beginning to set, golden rays pouring through the window and stinging his eyes.

“Oh,” says the nurse coming to check on him ten minutes later, “you’re awake! Thank god, we were starting to worry.” She glances up from her clipboard and sees the tears spilling down his cheeks. “Oh no, honey, what’s wrong?”

His voice breaks when he asks, “Where are my friends?”

-

He spends the entire flight staring out the window at nothing, spends the car ride home in fitful sleep. His mother fusses for weeks afterwards when she can’t draw him from his depression. His brother is afraid to go near him for fear of setting him off. Oli can’t reach Eva—she and Joey are still at the hospital, psych ward this time, no phones allowed. He spends his days curled up in bed staring at walls, waking up crying every time he falls asleep, and ignoring the therapists his parents make him see.

It’s halfway through the second week when a notification pops up on his phone. One missed call from Joey. He’d been in the middle of solitaire and his phone had been on Do Not Disturb, so the call goes straight to voicemail, but at the sight of the notification Oli’s already calling back.

“Joey?” he breathes when the call is picked up.

 _“Oli, thank god—”_ And Oli’s heart stops in place, because that’s not Joey’s voice over the phone.

“Eva?”

_“Yeah, it’s me. Joey and I are out—I am so sorry we couldn’t call. Are you okay? Where are you?”_

“My parents took me home,” Oli says, sounding about as numb as he feels, though his knees are weak with relief and he’s kind of glad he’s already sitting down. “Why did—”

 _“They wouldn’t believe a word we said about the house.”_ She herself sounds frustrated and angry and _incredibly_ tired. He wishes he could see her face. _“Pretty much thought we were crazy. You haven’t told anyone, have you?”_

“No.”

 _“Good, keep it that way, okay? We basically had to tell them we have amnesia and don’t remember anything.”_ She takes a deep breath, and when she speaks again her voice is shaky. _“Have they—did they find—”_

“No,” he says, saving her from choking it out. “Least, far as I know they haven’t. The house is still there but it’s basically in ruins and they didn’t find anyone there.”

_“Not even Arthur?”_

“I’m sorry, Eva.”

 _“God, Oli, don’t apologize,”_ she tells him. _“If anyone’s sorry it’s me. Oh, Joey says he’s sorry too.”_

 _“It was my fault you were all there,”_ Oli hears him say faintly in the background.

“It’s okay, Joey,” Oli says.

 _“No, it isn’t,”_ and Oli doesn’t have anything to say to that, so he doesn’t.

_“Are you coming back any time soon?”_

Oli’s probably imagining how hopeful she sounds. “I don’t know. Honestly, probably not. I don’t know if Mum is letting me anywhere near America ever again.”

A long pause, and then, gently: _“How have you been?”_

He stares at the wall and can’t not see the blood that had stained Shane’s lips bright red when he choked on poison. “I’ve been better.”

_“We’re gonna get through this.”_

“Are we?”

 _“We don’t really have a choice,”_ she says simply.

Well, she’s right about that, he thinks to himself, falling silent.

A knock on his door. Oli listens as his mother’s voice filters through it like it’s a canyon between them and not a flat piece of wood. “Oli? Are you coming to dinner?”

She asks him every day and every day he ignores her, but as Oli listens to the silence settle on his decaying room, he decides that he’s tired of this. Raising his voice a little, he says, “Yeah, I’ll be down in a minute.”

He thinks he hears her suck in a breath, but she shuffles away without saying another word—probably afraid that he’d change his mind if she pushed. Guilt floods him as he pushes himself to a sitting position. He’s been a bit hellacious lately. He needs to fix that.

Even if he doesn’t know how to be a person anymore. What words are safe to say, how fast or slow he should move, when he should eat, how much sleep he should get.

 _“You can do this,”_ Eva says over the phone, and he looks at it, remembering that it’s there. _“Oli. We’ll be here, every step of the way. Okay?”_

“You too,” he says, though it comes out a little desperate.

Eva hears it. _“It’s gonna be all right.”_

And, eventually, it is.

-

He finds himself painting oceans a lot.

It’s something of a copout, he knows, when his new therapist asks him to paint what he can’t seem to put into words. But Oli isn’t much of an artist, really, and maybe he _does_ feel like he’s drowning sometimes, adrift in an endless sea of doubt and guilt and fear and darkness. At least, that’s what he tells Yvette, and he sees from the way she peers at him over her clipboard that she doesn’t at all believe him.

That’s fine, really. Oli gets good at choppy waves and blue-green currents and sunsets spinning gold into the water. He ditches brushes and uses his fingers. He decides watercolors wash out easier and switches to those, and when he stops seeing Yvette—he can’t tell her anything substantial anyway, there’s no point—he continues to paint and finds that he’s much, much better for it.

-

Maybe water, now, just feels like a lifeline to him. Maybe that’s why he doesn’t bolt when it starts to rain. He’s on his balcony, painting because that’s all he does nowadays, and rain splats his hard work and he doesn’t even have it in him to be upset about it, he’s too _tired._ And the water is nice, a rare summer rain that serves as a balm in the wake of ten more Youtubers going missing—a lot of them his friends. Tyler Oakley, specifically, who’s half a world away _anyway_ and could be anywhere, any _time_ by now, and Joey, who’d dropped off the map ages ago but who Oli can’t help but suspect is involved in this latest round of “slaughterings,” as the media calls it.

Needless to say, he hasn’t been doing exceptionally well. He barely speaks anymore and if he does it’s only to calm Eva, who calls him every day to make sure he’s still alive. Joey going missing _again_ did a number on her, he knows, and he knows that being separated by an ocean and an entire country is hell on the both of them.

So when it begins to rain he just sits there and lets it wash away the cliffside he’d been hammering out, and the paint begins to run in a way that feels like screaming. Oli tilts his head to look at it, breathing deep the petrichor and relaxing as the day finally cools down.

A balm, a split second reprieve, and when Tyler comes back alive and absolutely broken, Oli starts painting hurricanes, too.

-

It takes him two months to understand that he’s painting the ocean because he misses Eva.

-

“How’s he doing?” Oli asks quietly one night.

Eva sighs over the phone. _“Sometimes he won’t even speak, he just sits there and cries. I’ve been trying to make it over there every day or so, make sure he eats, showers, that sort of thing. He’s like a zombie, Oli.”_ Her voice curves with edged anger. _“I want to go kick her ass, to be honest, but he won’t let me.”_

“Well, they need time,” he reminds her. “Both of them do. You know how messed up we were after we came back.”

 _“We had each other,”_ Eva says simply.

“Yes, and Tyler has us. You physically, even, which is even better.”

Eva growls. _“But we aren’t his_ partner, _Oli. We didn’t go through what he went through, no matter how similar the circumstances are. She was there and she left him and I—”_ Her voice wavers and she chokes on her next words, exhaling a deep, shuddering breath. _“I don’t know how to fix this.”_

“I don’t think you can, to be honest.”

_“Then what do I do?”_

“You keep being you,” he says, quiet faith ringing in his words. “It’s what got me out of my head. It’ll get him out of his, too. You don’t need to do or be any more than that.”

_“I mean—what if—”_

“It’s going to be okay, Eva.”

_“How do you know that?”_

He shrugs, knowing she can’t hear it over the phone and knowing, too, that she’ll feel it anyway. “We don’t really have a choice.”

_“Ha. Cheeky.”_

“You’re the strongest person I know,” he tells her. “And it’ll take time, because it always takes time, but we’re going to be fine, with or without Andrea. Okay?”

 _“Yeah. Yeah okay.”_ She takes another breath, settling herself. _“Well, at least it’s over now.”_

Oh, if only.

-

Oli wakes in a cold sweat, swallowing the scream that had gotten trapped in his throat during the nightmare. He clutches the sheets, hands trembling, and goes over what exactly this dream was trying to tell him.

Eva. Eva, Eva, Eva, Eva, Eva. It always comes back to her. Every part of him pulled in her direction, needing, _needing_ needing needing—

Oh no. Oh, god.

“God,” he whispers, resting his forearms against his eyes.

But he can’t unthink it.

-

His phone is ringing. Only two people really call him anymore, so he doesn’t bother checking the caller ID before he answers it. “Hello?”

_“Oli, it’s Teala.”_

“What?” He glances at the clock on his desk. “You do know that it’s three AM here, right?”

Eva doesn’t seem to hear him. _“No one’s seen her all day and she’s not the only one—Colleen is gone, too, and JC Caylen from Kian and JC—”_

“Wait, what?” He sits up now, squinting into the glow of his lamp—he still doesn’t like the dark so he never turns it off—and clutches the phone with both hands. “Eva, are you saying—”

 _“It’s happening again,”_ she says, tremulous, and then all of a sudden she’s crying. _“I don’t understand, Tyler said Joey died, I don’t understand how this could be happening again—”_

“Are you sure?”

_“No, but—there’s supposed to be an announcement later today, that basically confirms it doesn’t it?”_

“Oh, Eva,” he says, deflating. “God, I’m so sorry.”

 _“Could you stay on the phone?”_ She sounds desperate. _“I know it’s late there, but Tyler wanted to be left alone and I just_ can’t _right now, I really can’t, I’m sorry.”_

He wants to tell her he’d do anything for her if she asked. That he’d walk across the Atlantic to get to her if he had to. That he’d go through the slaughtering all over again if it made her happy.

He swallows the words and says instead, “Of course.”

It means the same thing, really.

-

The temptation to uproot himself comes to a head when the survivors come back.

Matthew “MatPat” Patrick and Nikita Dragun. He doesn’t know either of them, but he watches the world react to their losses and returned favorites and he decides that he’s tired of being so goddamned far from everyone.

Everyone, and also Eva. But he doesn’t tell anyone that.

Eva thinks it’s a fantastic idea. Tyler offers his house as a temporary rooming solution until Oli can find his own place. Oli spends the next couple of months convincing his parents that yes, he _does_ want to go back to the country that almost killed him—convincing himself that yes, he _is_ ready to be so far from home, and that _no,_ this probably isn’t a mistake and prolonged exposure to him won’t turn all his friends against him and this isn’t actually the worst idea in the history of ideas—

It’s a bit of a process, to be honest, but he gets through it, and then he gets on a plane, and America is just a whole lot _bigger_ than he remembers, and Eva twenty times more beautiful in person, in presence and appearance, and she leaps into his arms the second she gets the chance.

He inhales and smells saltwater and lilacs and he thinks, _oh no._


	2. darling, so it goes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well, if Eva’s an ocean, then Oli’s the shore she keeps crashing back to.

“You okay?”

Eva blinks away her thoughts, turning her head to see Tyler peering at her from behind his glasses. “Yeah, why?”

He frowns, gauging her. “It’s just a hell of a reunion, that’s all.”

“Oh, you mean—” And here she flushes, a bit ashamed. “I mean we were being kind of overwhelming, weren’t we.”

“Just a little bit,” Tyler agrees. “Oli’s not one for crowding, at least I don’t think he is.”

“No,” she says, thinking of how her partner had flinched and curled in on himself, lost in the throes of whatever flashback had him trapped. “He’s not. Maybe I shouldn’t have come.”

Tyler reaches over to squeeze her knee. “He wants you here, believe me. I think maybe it was just a bit too much, all at once.”

“Is he going to be okay?”

“Eventually. If not now then somewhere down the line.” He regards her. “But honestly, I’m a little worried about  _ you.” _

Eva rubs her arms, thinking Tyler’s house is always so  _ cold. _ “I’m fine.”

“Yes, and I’m Lady Gaga.” He frowns at her. “What’s going on? Are you having second thoughts about group?”

“No, I’m—” She exhales rough, leaning back against the couch they’re sitting on downstairs. “This is so stupid,” she mutters. “I think I missed Oli.”

A slow smile spreads on Tyler’s face. “You missed Oli?”

“It’s ridiculous! I didn’t know him before our slaughtering, I spent one night with him, and he was gone by the time Joey and I got out of the hospital, but even then—we’ve talked on the phone every day for years and I’m only just now realizing now that he’s here that it wasn’t enough?” Stress makes her voice tight as she gazes, somewhat helpless, in Tyler’s direction. “I mean, what am I supposed to do with that?”

“Damn, suffer, I guess,” Tyler offers. She hits him. “What? I’m being serious. There’s nothing you can do about the past, you know that. He’s here now.”

“So now what?”

“You wait for him.” He nudges her with his elbow. “Hey. It’s okay. These things happen.”

“I didn’t know he still panics so easily,” she frets. “I’m his partner, I’m supposed to  _ know—” _

“We have time to learn,” Tyler interrupts, stopping her own anxiety in its tracks. “And group to figure stuff out in. It’s gonna be okay.”

“If you say so,” she sighs, bringing her knees to her chest and wrapping her arms around it. A long silence stretches between them, before she admits, “I’m just worried. I think maybe I spent so much time with you, ‘cause you were  _ here _ and present and physical, that I just… forgot about Oli. Neglected him. And that’s why he’s here. Like, maybe he was lonely, and that’s my fault.”

Tyler, to her surprise, gives a warm chuckle and pulls her into his grasp to kiss her on the temple. “Whatever the reason,” he says in a way that makes her think he knows, “he’s here now. And like I said, we have time.”

“And if he hates me?”

“He doesn’t.”

“How do you know?”

“Because he’s  _ here,” _ he repeats, gently squeezing her shoulders. “Besides, it’s Oli. Do you really think he’s capable of hating anybody, never mind you?”

Eva thinks about it. How awkward he seemed in the car earlier, and when she went to hug him. He’d been stiff and cold but when he smiled at her there was warmth and the feeling of something returning that she hadn’t known she’d lost. And yeah, he might be holding her at arm’s length now, but…

“I guess not,” she concedes, but only because Oli being truly upset with anyone is kind of unfathomable.

“There you go.”

_ And so it goes, _ she thinks, even though Oli never comes down again and she leaves still feeling like she’d failed him somehow.

Still. Tyler’s right. Whatever’s broken, they have time to fix it. She knows that. ****  
** **

-

“Eva, this is really unnecessary—”

She whirls on him, putting a finger up, and he shuts his mouth with an audible click. “Culture shock is  _ real, _ Oli, and I’m not just gonna let you feel homesick if I can do anything about it.”

His cheeks tint red, which she thinks is kind of the cutest thing ever. “It’s not that big a deal,” he insists. “I’ll adjust soon, I know it.”

“Oli. Honey.” She puts both hands on his shoulders and he tenses again, then forces himself to relax a little. Eva narrows her eyes at him. “I don’t know how to tell you this, but just because you  _ can _ last until your suffering ends doesn’t mean you  _ should. _ You don’t have to.”

“I’m not suffering—”

“Oli.”

He sighs. “It’s not that big a deal.”

“Maybe not,” she says, releasing his shoulders and unlocking her car, “but that’s why it’s good to practice. For when it  _ is _ a big deal, and you need to know how to combat that. Anyway, it’s just one little mall, what are you so afraid of?”

And, well, it isn’t one mall and it certainly isn’t little, but they have fun. She does, anyway. Even if Oli clearly has never seen a longboard before, never mind ridden one.

(Still. It’s all very endearing.)

****-** **

“Were you being serious?” Eva asks once both their faces cool down and they’re no longer shouting at each other.

Nikita pauses, her fingers still threaded in the wig she’s currently braiding. “About what?”

“Me and Oli.” The other girl’s words ring through her head as she recalls them.  _ And I ain’t about to take shit about being brave from a bitch who’s too afraid to tell her partner she’s in love with him! _

The younger girl squints in her direction, her glossed lips puckering a little. “You trying to tell me you didn’t know?”

“I mean—” It’s super simple now that she thinks about it, really. The instantaneous trust that existed despite her reservations, the way she feels inexplicably safe, how sometimes when he’s near she can’t hear anything but her heart thudding in her ears, how she wants more than anything for him to be happy and safe and hers.

Nikita laughs. “I’ll be damned. You didn’t know, did you?”

It’s not funny at all. Eva sinks further into the floor, pressing her back to her bed as she watches Nikita braid her hair at her desk. “What do I do now?”

“Hello, girl? You tell him?”

“But—” Eva swallows hard. “I mean he’s my partner, what if it isn’t—what if what we have is only ‘cause we survived together? What if it isn’t even real?”

“Sis, let me tell you something.” Nikita pivots towards her and cocks a hip, pointing a long, manicured nail in her direction. “I’d trust Matt with my fucking life, but I wouldn’t wanna marry him. Tyler’s like a gay Glinda and I know for a fact he and Andrea ain’t fucking.” Eva winces at that, but Nikita ignores her. “I mean, ask yourself this: you feel the same way about Joey?”

Eva recoils. “What? No—”

“Then there’s your answer.” She whirls back to the mirror, finishing her braid. “If you wanna kiss the boy, Eva,  _ do _ it. Like damn, stop pussyfooting around and tell him how you really feel.”

She looks down at her hands. “And if he doesn’t like me back?”

In response, Nikita turns and offers her hand out to Eva. Eva takes it, still a bit wary, but she’s learning that as abrasive as Nikita makes herself out to be, she’s actually kind of a sweetheart.

The smaller girl smirks at her as she pulls her to her feet. “Tell him tonight,” she says, leaving no room to argue. “Then we’ll see.”

****-** **

Turns out telling him is the easy part. What’s hard is not immediately folding into him as he takes her and spins her around, touching their foreheads together when they come to a stop.

Her mind is chanting  _ this is dangerous, this is dangerous, this is dangerous— _

She decides that she doesn’t really care.

****-** **

Nikita’s a smug little shit, Eva thinks when she and Oli make their way into the tv room with their hands interlocked. She has her arms crossed, smirking, looking pointedly from Eva to their joined hands and back to Eva. And Eva scowls, but concedes, because she was right after all, and she knows when to admit defeat.

Besides, she wins in the end.

****-** **

Eva wakes and wonders why she’s cold and doesn’t understand that the reason is because she fell asleep warm, in Oli’s arms as they took up Tyler’s couch while the others bickered over whether Disney movies were better than Dreamworks as a whole.

He’s not here now, and neither is Tyler, and though she’s half asleep, she pushes herself up off the couch and goes in search of him, seeking him out like she’s being pulled.

****-** **

“Get out of my way Oli—”

He slides in front of her again. “No.”

Eva glowers up at him, fingers flexing like she’s looking for something to hit. “I behaved,” she says, though it kind of comes out as a snarl. “I listened to what she had to say and now I’m going  _ home.” _

Tyler’s already disappeared up the stairs. Eva’s face is hot. She doesn’t know if it’s rage directed at Andrea for daring to show up here and destroy the peace she’s finally,  _ finally _ found, for fucking Tyler up after all the work she’s done to fix him, or at Nikita for sticking up for her and Matt for leaving with them, or maybe it’s hurt because Tyler had shrugged off her attempts to comfort him and now Oli is in her way, refusing to move so she can storm out the way she wants to.

“It’s not good to drive when you’re this upset,” he cautions, and she suddenly  _ hates _ that calm.

“And why aren’t  _ you _ upset?” she hisses. “Tyler’s your best friend, he’s your roommate, you  _ know _ what she did to him—”

“I know Tyler, yes,” he interrupts, firm in voice and stature. “I know that he’s going to need all of us to get through this.” He holds her gaze, pinning her with it. “All of us.”

Eva glowers at him. “Are you talking about me, or her?”

Oli says nothing. Something irrational in her snaps and she’s suddenly shoving past him, stomping towards the door, her vision tunneling as she throws it open and marches out with the single-minded intention to get the  _ hell _ out of here.

“Eva, wait!”

He catches her wrist as she’s halfway down the driveway and Eva turns, almost swings before she remembers it’s  _ Oli— _ it’s Oli and they’d had such a wonderful night with each other and their friends and now everything is positively  _ ruined. _

“I don’t want to wait!” she shouts at him.

“Then what do you want?”

“I don’t know!” She shoves a finger in his chest. “I want you to act like you give a damn about your friends! I want that bitch to leave and never come back!” She doesn’t realize she’s crying, angry, frustrated tears spilling over and cutting into Nikita’s perfectly done and set makeup. Her finger turns into a fist and she presses it against his chest. “I want to be pissed she’s even here and not feel like an asshole for it! I wanna be able to trust you! I want—I want—”

And very suddenly Oli finds himself holding an armful of Eva as this shit all catches up to her and she just—sobs, furious and hurt and a little scared, into his shoulder. He strokes her hair and shushes her gently and shouldn’t be anywhere near her, really—she’d been trying to leave so she wouldn’t  _ hurt _ anyone, especially him, and she’s too caught up in her head right now to be careful.

He doesn’t seem to mind though. She’s tripping over her words and hurt and an apology or two for hitting him or accusing him of not caring, and he presses his lips to her hair and murmurs assurances and they stay like that for a very, very long time.

****-** **

_ “How’s Wednesday?” _

Eva thinks about it. “Should be fine,” she says. She hasn’t done a Get Ready With Me in a while, and having a date is a perfect excuse to do another one.

She can hear his boyish grin through the phone.  _ “Perfect. I’ll meet you at your house then.” _

“Can you even drive yet?” she teases.

_ “Ah… no, but I’m sure I’ll figure something out.” _

She laughs as he hangs up and pretends she doesn’t feel the tiniest curl of anxiety in her gut at the thought of this actually happening.

It’s been a while, that’s all.

****-** **

There’s inches of space between their lips under the umbrella they’re sharing and Eva thinks more than anything that she wants to kiss him.

She doesn’t, but maybe she should’ve.

****-** **

“I’m just not good at this,” she admits finally, staring up at her ceiling like she can find the answers all written there.

_ “Neither am I, to be honest,” _ Oli says.  _ “You’re just kind of different.” _

_ So are you, _ she wants to say, but that’s the problem in and of itself, isn’t it? “I just—” She stutters to a stop, a little shaken by the fact that she’d been about to slip up.

_ “We can go slow.” _ It’s like he read her damn mind.  _ “We don’t have to move too fast, Eva. That’s why I wanted to talk about boundaries in the first place. I know we’ve both had… difficulty letting people in.” _

“You?”

_ “I know,” _ he chuckles.  _ “Doesn’t seem to track, does it? But… sometimes I think I forget that I’m a person and that people care about me, so it’s hard to imagine anybody  _ wants _ to get close.” _

It’s not said in a self deprecating way. But Eva still aches when she hears it. “I do,” she finds herself saying.

There’s a pause long enough to make her hyper-aware of how stupid that had sounded, and then he says,  _ “Thank you, Eva. That means a lot to me.” _

She didn’t really do anything, but she glows anyway.

****-** **

He’s breathing heavy, and she wants nothing more than to hold him but knows he doesn’t like being confined in any way. Instead, she kneels next to the couch and lets him clutch her hand as he tries to get his tears under control.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles.

“You have nothing to apologize for,” she says fiercely, like her own conviction can convince him too. “Oli. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I just— _ hate this—” _

“I know, baby.”

Behind them, Nikita has lit a fire in the fireplace and it basks the room in a warm glow. Oli’s tears glitter on his cheeks in the golden light. Eva uses her thumbs to brush them away as he finally looks at her, actually  _ looks, _ and slowly, but surely, begins to relax.

“Sorry,” he says again.

Eva squeezes his hand. “I’m not.”

He flushes and looks away. “I’m supposed to be the strong one—”

“You’re not supposed to be anything,” she scolds him gently. “Nothing but Oli, understand? Nightmares and panic attacks and all. Besides,” and she waits until he turns his gaze back to her before pressing her lips to his forehead. “You braved water for me, Oli,” she murmurs. “You faced down your biggest trigger to come save me. How could I possibly fault you for that?”

“You didn’t need my help,” he points out, and she shakes her head.

“You didn’t know that. You tried anyway. Oli,  _ thank _ you.”

There’s silence as he searches her eyes. In an odd way, she’s never really been more honest, and when he finds it sitting there stark in her gaze, he nods slowly. Then he smiles. It sets off a kaleidoscope of butterflies in her gut.

“Always,” he says, and she knows the butterflies are a warning.

She just doesn’t care.

****-** **

Oh. This is her fault.

Should've fucking listened to that intuition.

****-** **

Eva goes home and she cries for an hour and nobody else has to see it but  _ she _ knows, and that more than anything is failure.

She wants Oli and knows she can’t have him, knows she  _ shouldn’t _ and wants him anyway.

It’s her punishment. She kind of revels in it. She shouldn’t have gotten as close as she did. She  _ knows _ better.

It’s over now.

****-** **

_ Just keep your goddamned distance. _

****-** **

Well, if Eva’s an ocean, then Oli’s the shore she keeps crashing back to. There exists now a chasm between them she wants more than anything to close, but despite her conscience telling her to stay away, he has this undeniable center of gravity. She keeps getting yanked into his orbit—never too far, close enough to touch if she just reached out.

She stares at his sleeping face from where they lie, mostly together, on the stage in The Living Room, and she knows full well that they might die tomorrow. She should wake him up. She should tell him she’s sorry, she was wrong, she was scared, she just doesn’t know how to do this. She’s  _ tried, _ is the thing, and could never yank that wall all the way down to let him in. They could die tomorrow, lose Matt at the very least. Eva doesn’t want this night to end. She wants to wake him up and tell him and then at the very least he’ll know.

Eva turns her back to him and curls in on herself and wishes she wasn’t such a coward.

****-** **

She doesn’t want to let him go, but Jetpack Girl is already leading the other girls away. Eva lingers. She wants to tell him. Hold his hand, kiss him, apologize.

They’re heartbeats out of sync and none of this is fair.

****-** **

“I don’t like guns—”

“It’s not a gun, it’s a blaster, it’s set to stun,” Jetpack Girl explains, voice hushed as she glances over the side of the railing. They don’t have a lot of time, and Eva knows she’s making a big deal of out it, but the shape of it is too damn similar and if it sounds the same—she’s not sure she can do this.

Nikita also looks pale with the weight of her own blaster in hand, but she stares Eva down. “She’ll kill him if you don’t do this,” she hisses, and whatever Eva wants to say gets stuck halfway through her throat. “That’s Oli down there.” Her voice is like a sharpened dagger. “That’s  _ Oli, _ Eva.”

And honestly that’s all Eva really needs to know. Her hands tremble as she clutches the ugly thing in front of her, aiming down its sight at the robed figure that has Oli by the upper arms.

They might die today but like  _ hell _ she’s going quietly, like  _ hell _ she’s just letting them take him from her.

She’s never been one to just lie down and take it.

****-** **

They’d known bringing JPG in was a risk, but Eva’s truly shocked to turn and see the blonde girl aiming her blaster right at her face. She’d felt the burn of the laser that had come searingly close to her cheek when she’d yanked her head to the side, but knows now that she won’t miss this time.

Oddly enough she isn’t angry or upset, but she is filled with regret that she won’t be able to tell Oli—

Then he’s there, much bigger and much stronger, wrestling Jetpack Girl’s thin arm up to the ceiling where the shot buries itself harmlessly into the wood there. And he holds her in place, Eva staring at the both of them with wide eyes until Jetpack Girl is able to regain control of herself and then they’re right back into battle. Oli throws her a thumbs up, like it’s  _ normal, _ and Eva thinks for an impulsive second about throwing herself into his arms.

She doesn’t, but it’s a close thing.

-

After that, when it’s quiet again, she kisses him.

And it’s really, really dumb that she’s waited this long.

****-** **

“What is love, anyway,” Oli muses as they sit facing each other, curled up on Eva’s couch when it’s all over and done with.

Eva tugs on his collar and pulls him in. “Whatever this is,” she says, and they meet in the middle.

Of that, above all else, she’s sure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> choppy like an ocean is and that's how I'm explaining away this mess lmaooo
> 
> listen... relationships are hard and so is writing
> 
> anyway I hope you enjoyed that! I should have another side story (featuring Daniel!) out sometime before I start book two in August so look for that!
> 
> get hyped for season four!!!!!


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